Dream

It's an unusually hot July night. I'm lying in bed - alone. Listening to soft music, eyes closed, naked. Air from the nearby fan caresses my hot skin. We spent the day together, then had to take our separate ways home. Now the memories are filling my head and I smile to myself. The day was beautiful, albeit short, as is any time we spend together. I glance in the mirror across from the bed - my long blond hair has fallen across the pillow - wisps of hair occasionally get caught in the breeze from the fan. My skin is glowing from being in the sun.

I reach over to the lamp and turn it off. The room remains dimly lit by the yard light outside my window. I stare at the shadows on the ceiling for a few minutes before closing my eyes again. I see your face in my mind as I last saw it, drawing away from our kiss goodbye. I imagine that I can feel your arms holding me tight to your body, your lips are on my shoulder . . . and how it takes my breath away. I want to pull you close to me and never let you go.

Resting my hand on my stomach, I feel the heat that radiates from my body. In my twilight sleep I imagine that you are here - next to the bed - you're watching me. You're leaning against the headboard, one hand touching my head, fingers slowly slipping through the length of my hair . . . Taking a deep breath I slowly exhale, relaxing into the mood that's easing over me. You whisper to me and I respond to your bidding. Moving my hand slowly up to the swell of my breasts, lightly grazing my fingertips over my nipples, the response is quick. My hands continue to my neck and into my hair. I stretch, arching my back, stretching my tired muscles. My hands make their way back downward, pausing at my breasts and awakening my barely concealed passion. Nipples responding again to my caresses. You murmur your approval . . . I continue to caress my breasts, exciting my nipples with one hand, while the other hand trails down my body to my inner thighs. I part my legs slightly, allowing just enough room for my fingertips to slip between them. Again you whisper your encouragement, and I'm losing myself in your demands. I will do whatever you ask me, whatever pleases you. I cannot describe exactly how this makes me feel, at first, self-conscious, then the exhibitionist in me slowly exerts herself and I find that I want to show you all you want to see. I want you to be pleased with the performance you command.

You walk to the end of the bed and take my ankles in each hand, slowly and easily spreading my legs apart, you don't want any part of me hidden from your admiring eyes.

My fingers quicken before I feel you grasp my wrists and firmly pull my hands over my head. You use a nearby scarf to bind my wrists to the headboard. My legs spread . . . you climb between them and lower your head - your lips playing with me, occasionally your tongue licks quickly. I want more and try to put my hips closer, but you pull away each time I try to get closer. I begin to moan - begging for your tongue, your kisses, that special maneuver that drives me wild.

You're moving, I feel the length of your body against mine, pressing me down onto the bed. I look into your eyes and wrap my legs around you, we kiss, a tender, deep, soul-searching kiss. We take our time, prolonging our pleasure. Moving to each others' rhythm, silence is broken by our demanding lovemaking, moans of rapture slip into the air.

I believe you want me, to touch me, to take me and you do. I can't get enough, I never will. We make it last as long as we can, however, it's still over too soon. But we enjoy touching and caressing still, lovemaking never ends abruptly with us...it's ongoing...and we enjoy every second of quiet delight.